As my 11-year-old, Nell, peered into the fridge and spotted the boxed Ozempic medication, she couldn’t help but ask, “What are those needles in the fridge?”
With a slight panic, I replied, “Oh, they’re Mommy’s new medicine,” trying to play it cool while internally scrambling to figure out how to approach the topic with my preteen daughter.
Later that evening, I knocked on Nell’s bedroom door as she was getting ready for bed. I asked if she wanted to talk about the medication she had found. We ended up cuddled in her bed, where I explained that my doctor had suggested I take the medication to help balance my blood sugar.
“I’m healthy, but the medication will help me be even healthier,” I reassured her. At this point, Nell hadn’t heard of Ozempic, nor had she seen any online videos or heard about celebrities using it. Our conversation focused on my desire to improve my health, and I made sure to mention that one of the side effects could be changes in my body.
“I love my body now, and I’ll love my body if it changes,” I emphasized. I had a similar conversation with my 9-year-old, ensuring both kids understood the situation and that we agreed to keep communication open.
Over the next few months, I kept them updated. If I felt extra tired, I’d explain it was a side effect of the medication. When we stumbled upon a commercial for Ozempic on TV, we discussed its messaging and why it was getting more attention in the media.
“Not everything the media says is true,” I pointed out, sparking a deeper conversation about media literacy. “We learned about this at school,” Nell chimed in.
After six months, I decided to stop taking Ozempic for various reasons: insurance issues and side effects affecting my quality of life. My kids didn’t ask about it, so I didn’t mention I’d stopped until they noticed the medication was gone from the fridge one day.
